


Alternatively

by fridaynightbitchfights



Category: PewDiePie (YouTube RPF), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Angst, Internalized Homophobia, M/M, Past Relationship(s), Sexuality Crisis, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-25
Updated: 2017-11-25
Packaged: 2019-02-06 18:23:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12823395
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fridaynightbitchfights/pseuds/fridaynightbitchfights
Summary: Cry reflects on his past experiences with his sexuality that eventually lead up to his attraction to Pewds.





	Alternatively

On days where he is left by his lonesome, Cry’s mind wanders. And that’s most days. Of course, the topics that come up are inane at most. “If there were two guys on the moon and one killed the other with a rock would that be fucked up or what” is a common thought that springs up in his head at these times.

In those rare moments, Cry’s mind wanders far enough to get into those suppressed cracks in his psyche and by then he’s doomed to think about things that will never be. Those days are pretty shit, because he thinks about all his missed opportunities, all his failures, all those times where he really should have just played it safe or taken the risk. On those days, Cry catches himself in an endless cycle of self-pity, leading him to reprimand himself, which only serves to continue the cycle.

Today, the topic at play really tackles him into submission: _What would have happened if I accepted my sexuality earlier?_

Cry recalls the times in high school when the signs started to pop up. His gaze would normally linger on the lowered top of the busty girl in his English class. That was all well and good, but as time went on, he would find himself staring at the toned stomach of that martial arts guy in the locker room as well. And his eyes were fucking merciless.

But, nope, he likes girls.

Cry insisted so when his group of friends caught him raking over a different guy with his shirt slightly ridden up, eyebrows raised and gazes condescending.

(It was at that point when Cry created a list titled “People I Definitely Should Not Tell My Deepest Darkest Secrets To Because They’re Probably Judgmental As Fuck”. The list was just as extensive as the title was, to the point where he could count his peers not on the list with one… actually no he couldn’t.)

The image of his high school buddies looking at him as if Cry had tentacles coming out of his ears is one that he constantly returned to.

Cry saw it when he caught himself looking at the martial arts guy again.

Cry saw it when his thoughts told him to hook up with the martial arts guy whilst horribly intoxicated.

Cry saw it when he fucked the martial arts guy, running his fingers over the toned stomach he fantasized over so much. (In response, Cry took the busty girl from English class on a date the day after, blaming the encounter from the night before on the rotation of the moon.)

Looking back, Cry really wished he had told his group of friends to fuck off or something. Maybe ditch them for the theater kids and prance around wearing nothing but a CMYK flag just to drive the point home. But, fuck, he was scared of being judged. Irrationally so.

In the end, Cry settled for exclusively talking about how much he’d like to motorboat Mila Kunis. (Which was true, but he wouldn’t have minded talking about how much he’d like to top Gerard Way.)

All of that was 6 BP. 6 years before Pewds. If Cry hadn’t discredited his homoerotic thoughts to hormones, things would have been different. Definitely. Maybe.

Men were exclusively sexually deviant thoughts. They weren’t supposed to be crushes. But along came Pewds.

Cry knew him before Marzia, y’know. He knew about that dorky Swede whose accent was too adorable to be real, he knew about those blue eyes that could melt anyone’s frosty heart, and he definitely knew about that hyena laugh that just burst radiance.

It was pure coincidence that his then small fanbase knew about Pewds, telling Cry that there was some wannabe on YouTube copying him. He looked him up and ended up floored by how attractive this guy was, accusations completely gone from his mind.

It was an even bigger coincidence that Pewds’ then small fanbase knew about Cry. The day that Cry opened his inbox with a message from PewDiePie with the subject line saying “Hello!” was the day he used the washing machine independently for the first time, as he had dribbled orange juice all over his shirt and pajamas in shock.

Interaction didn’t begin immediately from there, and it definitely wasn’t because Cry was so overwhelmed at the thought of a cute guy messaging him that he didn’t even open the message until weeks after. (Except, it totally was. Cry now would kick himself if he could.)

From there, things spiraled. A few star moments would include:

  * Pewds asking Cry to buy him a Vita and mail it to him. Russ could recite “I just really think he trusts me now and it’s just so cool that he let me do this thing for him like I bet he has a billion other friends in America but he chose ME I think I’m gonna fucking die” just from 2 days after the incident.
  * Pewds complimenting Cry’s voice by calling it “sexy”. Cry had to bite his lip to halt a giggle from escaping because how embarrassing would that be?
  * Cry complimenting Pewds on his eyes, just for shits and giggles, only to hear Pewds actually giggle and sheepishly thank him. Cry’s heart stuttered and just died then.
  * Cry accepting all of Pewds’ offers to co-op, with Pewds seeming so eager and excited to actually spend time with him. Those were the instances that Cry thought: “Holy shit, I think Pewds actually likes me.”
  * All the co-ops resulting in their fanbases shipping them. While it was amusing, Cry actually found a sense of satisfaction seeing all those people think him and Pewds would make a cute couple. As if he weren’t alone in thinking so, in his subconscious.



Yet, Cry refused to think about what his feelings were telling him. He denied his attraction to Pewds, he denied any romantic scenarios that whirled around in his head because of that Swede, filing them away in a different list called “Things I Will Deny I Have Ever Felt Ever”. They were friends. They were friends, and that’s the bottom line.

It would have been much easier to take if Cry just wanted to suck his cock, but no. Cry wanted to hold Pewds’ hand, he wanted to kiss all over Pewds’ face from his forehead to the mole on his upper lip, he wanted to run his hand through Pewds’ sandy blonde hair and lull him to sleep, and he wanted to have Pewds all cuddled up with him with his head tucked on his neck and his arms around Cry’s chest. But the judgmental eyes of his high school chaps continued to bore holes into his forehead and he just wanted them to stop.

(It was only about a year and a half later that Cry would say “Fuck it.”)

_If I had accepted my sexuality earlier, would me and Pewds have gotten together?_

Cry thinks about this, and comes to the conclusion: No, they wouldn’t have.

Because upon asking Pewds about his sexuality on the night that Cry had revealed his own to him, Cry received an overzealous: “I like girls. I’m completely straight. I know guys that are, like, super attractive, but I wouldn’t sleep with any of them, y’know? Like, I kissed a guy once, and I really hated it because his lips were so chapped and his beard was really itchy and just. Girls are just so much prettier and guys are gross.”

A thing that could never be.

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted: 2/8/2015
> 
> I've heard that this fic has made some people cry, and for that I am sorry. Kind of.


End file.
